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For a moment, I hold onto the envelope, reluctant to hand it over, but when Francine pulls a little, I have no choice. I have to let go if I don’t want to give her a reason to be suspicious.
“If there’s nothing else?” She folds her arms, the envelope clutched in one hand. She’s posed like a ballerina, one knee bent with her foot turned out and her long fingers resting elegantly on the sleeve on her blouse. Her nails are painted with a French manicure.
“No, thanks.”
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to start dinner.”
“Of course.”
Going back inside the kitchen, she closes the door. She might’ve well put a sign on it that reads stay out.
Not knowing what else to do with myself, I go through the rest of the house. Every room is decorated with antique furniture. There’s even a knight’s armor and medieval weapons. The place is like a museum. I don’t find a phone anywhere, and the empty wall plug in the entrance indicates the phone has been unplugged. I would’ve given anything to call Damian now, to tell him what my letter may not convey if Maxime decides not to send it.
One of the doors is locked, presumably a room Maxime doesn’t want me to have access to, and next to it I find a library with a fireplace. The house is cold. My wool dress barely keeps me warm. I use the chopped wood stacked in the basket to build a fire and stoke it until the flames leap high. To my dismay, all the books are in French. I settle on one about the region with photographs and drag the armchair closer to the fire.
In no time, my cold muscles thaw. My face warms, and my fingers prick with pins and needles as the frozen stiffness melts away. A gust of wind enters as the front door opens across the foyer. Maxime stands on the step, looking windblown and angry.
The physical heat remains, but a blast of coldness settles over me when he closes the door. My stomach tightens with apprehension as he removes his coat, scarf, and gloves, and hangs everything neatly on the coat stand before making his way to the library. I’m in full sight of the open door, and he watches me darkly as he advances.
I shut the book when he enters. My mouth goes dry when he closes the door and turns the key. I’m uncertain of him. I can’t place him. I don’t know who he is right now, the man of the cold cell or the man of the luxurious hotel suite.
Chapter 14
Maxime
Working my tie loose, I walk to the chair where Zoe is draped so prettily and stop in front of her. I’m hard. I want her. I’ve never wanted with such abandon. Certainly not a woman. My dirty pleasures are money and power. Sex is a recreational activity, a form of release. I enjoy it, but I enjoy work more. Not today, it seems. Today I chose her over the office, and I do need release.
As I take the book from her hand and leave it on the coffee table, I blame Alexis. I blame my anger as I pull her to her feet and take her place on the chair. It’s warm, her body heat lingering in the flowery upholstery.
I unbutton my jacket and cross my legs. I rest my hands on the armrests, a casual pose that belies how badly I want to lay them on her. I trail my gaze over her, taking in her luscious curves before pausing on the pussy at my eye level, the cunt I’ve assaulted my brother over.
“Sore?” I ask, lifting my eyes back to hers.
She stares down at me with her beautiful face, the pink flush on her cheeks from the fire deepening to a red. “Yes.”
I can’t take her again so soon, but there are other ways. “Undress.”
Her blue eyes go wide. “What?”
“Take off your clothes.”
She inhales audibly. “Why?”
I raise a brow.
Her curls tumble over her shoulders as she shakes her head. “I don’t want to have sex.”
“I won’t fuck you with my cock, but I did say often and convincingly.”
Her hands fist into the skirt of her dress. “It hurts.”
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I didn’t enjoy it.”
My little liar. “You came, didn’t you?”
“That doesn’t mean I liked it.”
I cock a shoulder. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want.”
“Then why do it?”
“That’s what lovers do.”
“Get naked in the study?”
My lips twitch. “Anywhere I want. You better get used to it, Zoe. These are the games grownups play.”
Her dainty nostrils flare. “Fuck you. I’m inexperienced. That doesn’t make me a child.”
“We’re going to punish that mouth of yours, but first things first. Are you going to undress, or do you find it more romantic if I undress you?”
